


Circling the Edge

by DaughterOfKings



Category: Young Wizards - Diane Duane
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Partnership, Wizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 11:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfKings/pseuds/DaughterOfKings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carl and Tom brace themselves for the inevitable. Set during Wizards At War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circling the Edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snuggalong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snuggalong/gifts).



> 1) When I got this assignment all I could think of is how Tom and Carl would NEED more than words during the events of Wizards At War, so this is what came of that. I hope you enjoy it, cousin!
> 
> 2) Title cribbed from "Adventures In Solitude" by The New Pornographers. It was my background music while I wrote this.

Carl goes to work even though the world is ending.

He'd thought about taking some of his sick days until he realized he would wake up one morning and be unable to explain why he took them. He's tried to accept that it's going to happen- that he, Tom, and all the world's Seniors really are about to lose their wizardry and every memory associated with it- but it's so hard.

He rests his head on his desk and forces himself to breathe normally.

There's a gentle pressure on his mind as Tom's voice cuts into his thoughts: _You're okay. You can do this._

He laughs harshly, covers it with a cough, and opens his planner so he can check his daily schedule. _Only because you keep telling me I can_ , he thinks, trying not to wonder what he'll do when he can no longer hear his partner this way.

 _I'll find other ways to tell you_ , Tom says fiercely. _I'll never stop telling you. I won't let you forget that you're strong enough to bear this_ \- and then, before Carl can even consider doubting him- _You know a wizard doesn't lie, Carl._

And they are still wizards in this moment, so Carl believes him. He takes a breath, swipes at his eyes with his knuckles, and gets to work.

* * *

Tom is sitting at the kitchen table when Carl gets home. He's hunched over his Manual the same way he's been every night since they told the younger wizards what was coming. He's trying to find another solution- and Carl thinks that if anyone could do it, it would be Tom- but both of them know it isn't there.

Carl doesn't stop him, though; he knows his partner has to try.

What he does do is grab Tom's reading glasses off the counter and place them on the table, saying, “You're squinting, old man.”

Tom jerks his head up- and Carl's as startled as he is because it's been so long since either one of them has been unaware of the other's presence- and they both stare at each other.

“It's not-” Tom begins, then stops, swallows hard, and tries again, “It's not that I can't see it.”

_It's that I can't read it._

Carl's stomach twists sharply. He reaches out and pushes away both Tom's glasses and his Manual- and he's careful not to look because he isn't ready to see the Speech as unfamiliar characters, too. “All right,” he says. “All right, Tom, just take a break. The dogs probably want someone to throw a ball to them or something.”

“They've probably been trying to tell me so all day,” Tom says shakily, and Carl reaches out and pulls him into a tight embrace.

“We told them this would happen,” he says, tightening his grip when Tom's thoughts- _too soon, too soon, too soon_ \- collide with his own. “They'll be okay, and we'll be okay because we're still us. We're still going to be us.” He's aware that he's rambling, but he can feel Tom relaxing little by little, so he keeps talking.

Eventually, Tom takes a deep breath and starts to pull himself together. “Make dinner?” he asks softly against Carl's shoulder, and Carl has to work up a smile for him at that. It's been a long-running joke that their partnership is actually built on his ability to cook and Tom's ability to eat- symbiosis, Tom had insisted the first time someone brought it up.

“I was thinking lasagna,” he says, and Tom's stomach grumbles as if on cue.

They hug once more- quickly, this time- and then Tom heads for the back door. Annie and Monty bark excitedly when he steps onto the deck, and he beckons them forward to receive their affection. Carl watches from the window, and tries to be grateful that at least the moments like this- simply watching Tom at play- won't be taken away from him.

 _If I really am strong enough to bear this_ , he thinks as hard as he can, _it's because you're here with me._

* * *

Work is less stressful the next day.

Carl breezes through two deals before mid-morning and his colleagues can't stop praising him for it, but once he's back at his desk he gets a nagging feeling that he's forgetting to do something, or that he's left something at home. He triple checks the papers in his briefcase, runs through the presentation he's supposed to give to a potential client at 2:00, calls the finance guys twice to confirm the numbers on the morning's contracts, and the feeling still doesn't go away.

One of the assistants pops her head into his office. “Carl? You're all set for this afternoon? The boss wanted me to check.”

“Yeah,” he says absently. “Everything seems to be in order.”

She gives him a nod and a smile. “I was just going for coffee. Want anything?”

He takes it to mean that he looks a little tired, and maybe he does. He vaguely remembers having some odd dreams throughout the night- like something out of one of Tom's novels. “No, thanks,” he says. “I don't want my hands to shake while I'm up in front of everyone later. I'm just going to eat lunch and go over my notes.”

“All right, then. Let me know if you change your mind.” She gives him another smile and lets him be.

Carl reaches into his bag for the vintage lunchbox Tom got him years ago. He opens the lid and sees a sticky note taped to the inside.

 _You can do this_ , it reads, and Carl grins because he hadn't figured his partner would remember that he had a big presentation to give today. Then he sees the line below- _You still have a willing heart_ \- and everything he's supposed to know comes slamming back into his mind, scattering almost as quickly. He hangs onto the fragments as best he can, and whispers to any Powers who just might be listening, “Not yet. Not while Tom's alone. You owe him that much.”

* * *

Tom is sitting on the front steps when Carl comes home this time. His head is bowed and his shoulders are shaking, and Carl knows he's finally accepted that there is nothing they can do. It's out of their hands, and it has been for a while, but this feels like an ending.

Tom looks up with watery eyes, and Carl immediately tugs his sleeves down over his hands so he can wipe the tears from his partner's face.

“I didn't want to- thought I'd cried myself out before you got here, but-" Tom breaks off with a helpless shrug.

Carl helps him up and nudges him towards the door. “Come on. Let's have a movie night. You choose.” He knows it's not going to make either of them feel better, but he wants to maintain the tradition anyway.

Tom goes and picks _The Wizard of Oz_ out of their movie collection and sets it up while Carl makes popcorn.

They settle on the couch- not close enough to be touching, at first, but by the time Dorothy meets the Scarecrow, Tom is slumped over with his head on Carl's shoulder. Carl listens to his partner's breathing slow and deepen, and doesn't notice when his own eyes slide closed. He's jolted out of his doze when Tom abruptly stirs and sits up.

“Carl, we can't sleep,” he says. “Come on, we can't sleep.”

“But we're tired,” Carl protests, unwilling to open his eyes, “and you were comfortable...”

“Carl,” Tom says more loudly, “we're going to wake up in Kansas.”

“What are you-” Carl blinks, remembers, and pushes himself upright. His body protests the way it would if he'd just performed a high-energy spell, and he never expected losing his wizardry would feel so much like practicing it did.

“I didn't either,” Tom says, and Carl's not sure if he's spoken aloud or if Tom can still hear him. “But- so this is it. We'll fall asleep, and when we wake up-”

“Kansas,” Carl finishes. “But-" he searches for something to say that will make the moment a little less terrible- "Dorothy realizes she'll be okay there, doesn't she?”

“I know,” Tom says miserably, “I know, and we'll be okay, too. We will.” He leans forward so his forehead is resting against Carl's. “Tell me we'll be okay.”

“I'll never stop telling you. I won't need words to tell you,” Carl answers, feeling Tom's fingers wrap around his and tighten at the familiar promise.

They stay like that, hands joined and heads together, and wait- just wait and breathe- for as long as they can.


End file.
